


stitches

by vtn



Category: Justice (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-11
Updated: 2007-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtn/pseuds/vtn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling into love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stitches

**Author's Note:**

> SECOND PERSON: YES I DID. Um, it's Gaspard's POV though.
> 
>  _Tying yourself to me, stitch up my emptiness_ \- Orgy
> 
> Also, some awesome Justice fans translated this into Portuguese(!), available [here](http://fromsaturn.livejournal.com/42351.html).

bliss comes from being so entangled you're one person: a four-armed shiva with hands pointing in every compass direction. suddenly there is no reason to go along with the previous course of your lives; now that they've connected there's sparks flying in every direction and you're going to start a fire. there's no reason to stay in school, to behave, to keep your head down. everywhere you look there's something better. there's no reason not to reach up and grab it.

your life, singular, is free of routine. an ordinary trip to the kitchen for coffee interrupted by his arm crooking around your knee and him kissing your leg; that's weird, getting your leg kissed, but it's sexy when it's him doing it, so coffee waits. life, as it would seem, doesn't. you blink and everything has changed. your house is full of loud people and loud music. you wake up in various rooms.

you want to freeze every moment with him: the time a flower petal sticks to his face and he doesn't notice but you don't say a word because it brings out this really unusual tone to his skin that you never really saw before. the winter morning when you bring him breakfast in bed and he flips and tells you he hates eggs done that way, but then snaps out of his crankiness when he realizes he's hurt you and then just holds you the rest of the morning, laughing. him putting on socks that are too big. getting tattoos together.

can you freeze sex? can you freeze kissing on new year's eve? can you freeze his 'please don't be mad at me' eyes (you never are)? can you freeze the nights when you stayed up until the next morning spreading out the tenets of your personal mythology, the moments when you realized that after a certain point, no one else would be able to understand some of the things that passed between you?

but life keeps flashing by. the calendar molts, shakes off days, sheds years.

and yet he's still there. so why freeze time when you're growing together? every day is something new. tuesday is the photographer asking if you would stop touching each other for just one moment, or, maybe, if you really want to, you can keep at it but just hold still for a moment, will you, oh! yes, stay just like that, this is going to look perfect. wednesday is him sternly pulling you into a forgotten alley because honestly he just had to kiss you, and damn you for making it so hard to resist. thursday is you kissing your way up his arm until he wakes up, heavy lids lifting so he can give you a look that says 'i'm in heaven'.

all the moments begin to entangle too, just like you do (your friends make up portmanteaus of your names to refer to you now; you're a single entity, a combined being, the whole that is greater than the sum of its parts). and your hope is that you'll never have to stop to straighten out the tangled strings of the events that shaped your lifetime. your hope is that you can sail straight into the great unknown of the future, the sunlight glinting off the trail of rippled water that stretches into infinty behind you.


End file.
